


A Sight For Sore Eyes

by Welcome_to_yesterday



Series: FakeAh AU's [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blind Character, Brotherly Love, Fake AH Crew, Friendship, Gen, Not actually brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-15 18:57:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12326901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welcome_to_yesterday/pseuds/Welcome_to_yesterday
Summary: Trevor gets fucked over and suddenly needs all the help he can get, but there's no way he wants to be treated like a child. Alfredo is understanding and helps him take it step by step.





	1. Chapter 1

“Sit still, would you? You’re making this real difficult,” Alfredo scolded, his hands gentler than they’d ever been on another man. His fingers worked with a damp cloth to clean up the wounds that were now a permanent fixture on Trevor’s face.  
“It hurts,” he hissed through his teeth, foot tapping impatiently on the floor as he sat in the chair below Alfredo. Trevor felt himself to be so stupid right now. He’d fucked up big time.  
The rest of the crew had planned this heist for months and, just before they left, Geoff had announced it would take up to a week to complete. Without the others to keep him company, Trevor had taken it upon himself to do a small job and boy did it blow out of proportions.  
Two daggers. Two damned daggers had been swiftly thrusted into Trevor’s eyes. And it hurt like a fucking bitch. He immediately called Alfredo, pushing him away as he tried to find out what injuries he had.  
“Just a sprained ankle,” he’d lied and managed to hide his face as he stumbled towards the car. Getting up to the penthouse was more of a chore, Alfredo assuming he was a man of pride and not showing his face because of his tears. It wasn’t until the next day that Alfredo learned the truth. He’d just gone to offer a sandwich to the boss but the scene in Trevor’s room was ungodly. Blood stained the sheets and pillows where he’d tried to stem the blood loss, objects scattered around the room in his frantic attempt to move around. Alfredo had found him leaning over the bathroom sink, whole body shaking until two hands rested on his shoulders.  
If Trevor could’ve looked at him pleadingly, he would have. Would have begged for some sort of help. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak and Alfredo took it upon himself to fix him up.  
“It wouldn’t hurt so much if you kept still,” he commented, Trevor sighing before stopping his movements.  
They knew they had only a week. A week to get Trevor back on his feet as if everything was normal. He refused to let Alfredo tell anyone, saying he didn’t want to let this stop him being just as good as before. And so, Alfredo listened and kept a small distance.  
By now, Trevor knew the penthouse from memory and could swiftly travel from the bedroom to the kitchen without fail but he had to call for Alfredo when he couldn’t figure out if he was holding a packet of ham or beef from the fridge. The week went by quick, Trevor finding a way to discreetly check if things were around him before moving, and Alfredo always just off to his side in case he needed him.  
The others suspected nothing when they returned, Alfredo glad that they took the whole Trevor-wearing-sunglasses-all-the-time thing as a phase. Life continued as normal until it all came crashing down one day.  
“Alright, Ryan, Jack and I will check the back lot, Gavin, Michael and Jeremy can take the left side which leaves the twins to do the right,” Geoff called out, clipboard in hand. They’d recently began to use a warehouse to stock some goods and Geoff was adamant that they did an inventory check. During it all, a rival gang thought it was be a clever idea to ambush the crew, bursting into the warehouse with guns literally a blazing.  
Alfredo was quick to push Trevor behind cover, pulling out his pistol and shooting with precise aim. Everyone was quick to do the same but Ryan took it upon himself to move around the warehouse, checking on his friends.  
“Alfredo, Trevor, you all good?” he called out from behind some boxes, Alfredo throwing a thumbs up in his direction. He resumed his aim not realising that Ryan’s gaze had focused on Trevor, who was slumped against the crate they were using as cover, a hand over his ear.  
“Are you just going to sit there, Trevor, or actually help out?” Ryan called, annoyance lacing his tone. Alfredo tensed, eyes glancing cautiously to the lad next to him. Trevor’s day had already been bad enough, knocking shit over and hearing the mocking laughter from his teammates this morning. It was all too much, his heightened senses causing the gunfire to aggravate him further, until…  
“I would love to Ryan but I’m fucking blind!”  
The words echoed through the warehouse, laying heavy as the gunfire soon silenced when the rival gang was murdered. Alfredo was gingerly pulling Trevor to his feet, a thumb rubbing gently at his temple to try and sooth him.  
The rest of the crew acted as if they were on eggshells, creeping warily towards Trevor and keeping their voices hushed.  
“When did it happen?” Geoff asked when they were finally seated in the penthouse, Trevor just shrugging as he held an ice pack to his head.  
“About a month ago. When you guys went on that week-long heist,” Alfredo explained. “It was a random job but the guy was a mad man. I got him back here and cleaned up but there’s not much I could do about being stabbed in the eye.”  
Trevor flinched at the words and sighed softly, using his hand to push the sunglasses off his face.  
“We could’ve helped you, damnit. That’s what we’re here for. No wonder you’ve been stumbling around the place, acting a fool,” Ryan grumbled, Trevor’s brows furrowing.  
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I didn’t want help. What sort of gang boss would I be if I had to literally lean on you all?”  
Trevor felt anger rising to his cheeks but then a hand rested on his shoulder.  
“You guys heard him. He doesn’t want your help. So, don’t help him. If you’re here for him when he needs you then fine. But if he doesn’t need you, then fuck off.”  
And, for the first time in his life, Alfredo swore he saw a hint of fear in the Vagabond’s eyes.  
The tension between the crew had disappeared after a small while, Alfredo sticking close to Trevor. They planned heists together, Trevor being the brains whilst Alfredo did the physical planning. But, slowly, the others had started to pitch in with their own special way.  
Gavin, being the master of tech, had linked a 3D printer to Alfredo’s laptop, allowing him to create 3D maps so Trevor could interact with them. Michael had put his nonstop mouth to use, watching movies and tv shows with Trevor and happily explaining everything to him. Geoff started cooking more, prepping meals for when they leave so Trevor could grab it and eat without them all worrying about the blind guy messing with knives and a hot stove. Jack was quietly repairing his clothes, taking note each time there was a new rip or tear and snatching the clothing as soon as it had shed from Trevor’s body. Jeremy had been quick to provide Trevor with a plethora of new sunglasses to wear. Meanwhile, Ryan was himself, the silent bodyguard. He’d usually look out for his crew in general but he soon found his icy gaze constantly drifting to Trevor when they were out and about.  
Trevor thought it would be a living hell after they found out. He soon realised he was wrong. After a successful heist, the crew had invited Trevor and Alfredo to join them at the bar, the usual jokes and laughter relaxing them. Michael was chatting away about the heist, Jeremy and Gavin both happily adding in anecdotes whilst Geoff and Jack grumpily corrected their exaggerations. And Ryan sat silently next to Trevor, watching his face light up with a smile as he listened to his friends.  
“You did good,” Ryan muttered, joining Alfredo where he stood by the bar.  
“Did good?” he questioned and Ryan grunted.  
“With Trevor. Poor kid lost his fucking sight and yet here he is as if he’s no different. Kinda shows that this hope in this damned world.” His sentence was punctuated by a shot and then a return to the table.  
Alfredo was stunned by how poetic his words were but couldn’t argue. Trevor would’ve done the same for him. It’s what brothers do. Real or not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing that first part, I couldn't help but want to delve more into this. Because, if I'm not in the mood to write the happy stuff then i gotta write the emotions

Alfredo was alone in the dark room, the only light source being a dim bulb that hung from the ceiling a few feet away. His sight strained in the darkness, trying to make out anything around him. He opened his mouth, tried to call for help, but no sound came out. Movement was impossible in the chair, yet when he glanced down there was nothing holding him down. It was as if his body was paralysed from the neck down.  
A figure began to move into the light, Alfredo’s gaze starting at its feet. The dress shoes were scuffed, bottom of the black trousers dirty and ripped as if he’d been running from something. His gaze travelled upwards to meet with the white shirt, the front drenched in fresh blood and the sleeves rolled up in haste. He caught sight of the hands, shaking and sharing the same blood that stained the shirt. He finally met the figure’s eyes, two gashed out wounds puncturing the familiar face. Crimson blood rolled in droplets down the soft cheeks of the man, like he was crying tears of absolute pain.  
He tried to scream, call his friend’s name as if it would help the situation. But the lifeless face stared at him with a look of betrayal. Bloodied hands balled into fists and the face scrunched in disgust.  
“Why didn’t you save me, Alfredo?” Trevor’s voice was angered, a tone Alfredo had only heard in dire heist moments. “You could’ve come on that job. Saved me. Took me to a hospital at least.”  
Alfredo shook his head, trying with all his might to move himself. He wanted to run. Where, he did not know.  
“But, instead, you left me to suffer.”  
The sound of smashing glass jolted Alfredo awake, his eyes blinking rapidly as he sat up on the couch where he’d been left to sleep. His hand clutched at his chest as he looked around the penthouse living room, searching for whatever woke him.  
As if sensing the other had awoke, Ryan poked his head into the room with an apologetic look on his face.  
“Sorry about that. Dropped a glass,” he mumbled but arched a brow at Alfredo’s panicked breathing. “Everything alright? You usually don’t get spooked so easily.”  
Alfredo looked to Ryan, trying to let his breathing calm and his brain process the information before speaking.  
“I’m fine. Just a nightmare,” he muttered, dragging his tired body off the couch and forcing himself towards Ryan.  
“I’ll start some coffee,” the older said, walking back into the kitchen where he had originally been. Alfredo followed him, leaning on to walls and furniture for support as he forced his body to wake up despite probably needing more sleep.  
The coffee machine whirred quietly as Ryan swept up the glass that had smashed, Alfredo dropping into a chair and glancing down at himself. His t-shirt and leather jacket were gone, his jeans wrinkled and both socks and shoes missing from his feet. He simply assumed that after the usual heist celebrations, the others had brought him back up to the penthouse and got him comfortable before sleeping. Probably Trevor’s request.  
The glass clattered in the trash and Ryan pulled two mugs from a cupboard, pouring their drinks and then joining Alfredo at the table.  
“I’m pretty sure Jack threw your shirt in the wash. You and Gavin had a drinking contest last night and it didn’t end well,” Ryan noted with a quiet chuckle as Alfredo sipped on his drink. He enjoyed the warmth of the coffee, glancing out of the large windows to see the empty streets of Los Santos. The sun had just risen, clouds littering the sky keeping hold of their pink hue for just a small while longer.  
“Must’ve been a really bad nightmare,” Ryan muttered, pulling Alfredo’s attention back to him. His dark eyes scanned the Vagabond’s face, the numerous scars seeming so familiar despite his constant covering of them.  
“Yeah, it freaked me out,”  
“I hope you don’t mind me asking but what was it even about?” Ryan questioned, drinking from his own mug as Alfredo stared into his coffee. “You don’t have to say if it was that bad.”  
“It’s fine,” Alfredo muttered, calming Ryan for a moment. “It was about Trevor. I’ve been on edge ever since he…” he trailed off, pulling his gaze up to meet Ryan’s. Something about this very moment made him feel a slight bit safer. With the others asleep still, Alfredo felt he could put some trust in Ryan, even if the others didn’t think the same.  
“He just stands there, wounds fresh as ever on his face. There’s blood all over him and I’m just paralysed in place. And then he starts talking, saying I could’ve saved him and-“ Alfredo suddenly felt the hand over his and Ryan’s usual cold eyes were soft towards him.  
“You couldn’t have. Even if you tried. The poor kid was stabbed in the eyes. You can’t really recover from that too well,” Ryan’s voice barely above a whisper as he spoke, Alfredo nodding his head slightly.  
“I know, I just…I just want to help him. He didn’t deserve that shit and I wanna make sure he’s alright,”  
“He’s tough. I mean, he fucking bled out for ages until you got to him. Ruined the damn sheets. Whether he likes it or not, you need to help him. To stop this from happening again.”  
A door opening could be heard and then footsteps, Michael entering the kitchen and rubbing his eyes.  
“Wow, didn’t even make me coffee, how sweet,” he cooed, ruffling Ryan’s hair to get on his nerves and making his way to the coffee machine. “Anyways, what are you guys blabbering about? Might as well tell me now I’m here.”  
Alfredo sighed and laughed quietly, standing and moving to put his empty mug in the sink.  
“Ryan was just giving some good old life advice,” he said, placing his cup in the sinking and smiling as Michael raised at brow at him.  
“Sure, because he’s totally got his life together,” he mumbled, pouring his coffee before continuing. “Anyways, your shirt is hung up in Trevor’s room all nice and clean after you went to vomit town on it last night. All your other stuff is there too, curtesy of Jack.”  
“Thank, Michael,” he gave him a pat on the back and then left the kitchen, heading to Trevor’s room.  
As he reached it, he cracked open the door to check he was still sleeping before stepping quietly into the room. He spotted his shirt folded neatly on a chair, his socks and shoes on top as the jacket hung on the back. Alfredo grabbed up his clothing before glancing to the bed, seeing Trevor sleeping peacefully after the events of last night. A small smile crept on to his lips, nodding to himself before he left the room.  
“How’s he holding up?”  
Ryan’s voice came as a shock, Alfredo not realising he was stood just behind the door as he exited the room.  
“Jesus Christ, Ryan. I know you like to be creepy but tone it down. And he’s perfectly fine, just sleeping,” he said, already tugging the shirt over his scarred chest.  
“Got any plans for the day? I assume most of the crew will sleep till dinner,” Ryan mumbled and Alfredo glanced up at him.  
“I was probably going to try and get ahead on a heist Trevor’s been working on. Maybe an outside view could help,” he noted and Ryan nodded.  
“I’d love to help. I mean it.”  
The two shared a moment of quiet before they heard Michael cursing from the kitchen and quickly directed themselves towards the office, not wanting to be around if Geoff was awoken early. They worked on the job, Ryan being a fresh outlook and managing to figure out what they’d been stuck on for a while. Alfredo knew that if Trevor was awake he’d be hating the help, despite knowing how much he needed it. And when he did finally wake, he just grinned before reaching his arms out for a hug, a silent thank you.


End file.
